Chapter 1The Heiress's Ultimatum

On the day of my strategic corporate engagement to Nathaniel Prescott, heir to New York's top billionaire dynasty, he suddenly handed me a DNA test.

"Eleanor, I have a son on the outside. He's already three years old."

Saying this, he pulled the woman in the white dress next to him closer:

"This is Vanessa. My son's mother, and the only woman I will ever truly love in this lifetime."

"As for you and me, this is just a corporate merger arranged by our families. So you'd better play smart. After the wedding, we live our separate lives."

"As long as you behave, the position of Mrs. Prescott will always be yours."

I listened to him and almost laughed out loud.

The position of Mrs. Prescott?

He said it like he was handing out charity.

Did he seriously not know that the Sinclair and Prescott families weren't merging for prestige?

We were merging our resources.

So our future children could legitimately inherit everything!

But look at him.

Before the rings were even exchanged, he produced a three-year-old son to demand a cut of the empire?

I slapped the DNA test right back against his chest.

"Nathaniel, corporate marriages require smart partners, not idiots who can't keep it in their pants."

"Since you can't bear to part with your true love and your son, I'll go find Grandpa Prescott right now and have him swap out his heir!"

"After all... you're not the only man in the Prescott family."

* * *

Nathaniel's face darkened instantly at my words.

He grabbed my wrist in a vice grip.

"Eleanor Sinclair, stop right there."

"Today is the day our families officially merge. This is not the place for you to throw a spoiled princess tantrum."

I glanced down at his hand.

"Let go."

He didn't. Instead, he lowered his voice.

"If you walk out there and make a scene in front of my grandfather, you'll just embarrass both our families."

I looked at him and let out a scoff.

"Embarrass?"

"Nathaniel, you brought your mistress and your illegitimate child to our engagement party, and you're lecturing me about being an embarrassment?"

His expression grew even colder.

"I've already made myself perfectly clear. The title of Mrs. Prescott is yours. Vanessa and the kid won't threaten your position."

"What the hell are you still making a fuss about?"

I was so infuriated by his sheer audacity that I almost laughed again.

"Won't threaten me?"

"Will that kid have the Prescott last name?"

"Will he demand a share of the Prescott stock in the future?"

"When you and I have children, are they going to have to call your bastard son their older brother?"

Nathaniel frowned deeply.

"Oliver is my blood. I can't just disown him."

I nodded.

"So you want the Sinclair family's resources, you want your true love, and you want your illegitimate son to legitimately inherit a piece of the pie?"

"Nathaniel, you've really got it all figured out, don't you?"

A few scoffs echoed around us.

Not directed at Nathaniel.

Directed at me, for being "unreasonable."

Nathaniel's frat-boy friends circled up.

A guy in a floral shirt holding a martini glass drawled,

"Ms. Sinclair, let it go."

"Who in our circle doesn't have a little something on the side?"

Another chimed in:

"Exactly. Nate is willing to give you the title of Mrs. Prescott. That's respectful enough to the Sinclairs."

"So what if he has someone on the outside?"

"As long as it's not shoved in everyone's faces, we all just turn a blind eye, right?"

I slowly scanned their faces.

I knew them all.

Tyler Vance.

Wyatt Brooks.

And Logan Caldwell, the youngest son who was always trending online for some scandal.

They were all useless trust-fund babies kept around for amusement.

No company responsibilities.

No projects to touch.

Their families' only expectation was that they didn't cause a PR disaster.

Of course they didn't care.

Because they were never in line for the throne anyway.

But Nathaniel was different.

He was the personally appointed successor to the Prescott empire.

He wasn't marrying me for romance.

He was marrying me for the integration of the Prescott and Sinclair empires.

It was capital, distribution channels, networks, and shares.

And the legitimacy of the next generation of heirs.

But here he was, smashing the Prescotts' most important bargaining chip before the engagement was even sealed.

I pulled out my phone and texted my dad.

"Nathaniel has a mistress and an illegitimate son. The merger is compromised."

Nathaniel noticed immediately.

His eyes darkened.

"Who are you texting?"

I put my phone away.

"None of your business."

As we stood at a stalemate, Vanessa stepped forward, holding the boy.

Her eyes were red as she looked at me:

"Ms. Sinclair, please don't blame Nate. It's all my fault."

"I shouldn't even exist, and I shouldn't have come today."

She patted the boy's head.

"But Oliver has wanted to see his daddy since he was a baby."

"I just wanted him to know he isn't fatherless."

The boy immediately hugged Nathaniel's leg, his childish voice pleading:

"Daddy, please don't abandon me and Mommy."

The anger in Nathaniel's eyes instantly melted into heartbreak.

He knelt down and scooped the boy up.

"Daddy will never abandon you."

Vanessa's tears fell faster.

"Ms. Sinclair, Nate is just too devoted."

"You are the Sinclair heiress, you have everything."

"I only have Nate and our child. I swear I will never fight you for the position of Mrs. Prescott."

She spoke beautifully.

Not fighting for the position?

Then why show up on my engagement day? Wasn't that proof enough?

I looked at her, my voice turning to ice:

"Ms. Miller, you don't need to play the victim here."

"After all, I didn't force you to have a kid, and I certainly didn't force you into Nathaniel's bed."

Her face turned chalk white.

Nathaniel stood up abruptly.

"Eleanor Sinclair! Watch your mouth."

I met his gaze:

"Too harsh for you?"

"Then why didn't you think it was ugly when you were doing it?"

Nathaniel's chest heaved with rage. He raised his hand, fully intending to strike me.

Just then, rapid footsteps echoed from the hallway outside the lounge.

Seeing who had arrived, my tense nerves finally relaxed.